


goddamn right you should be scared of me

by shitstuck



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Homestuck
Genre: A Surprising Amount Of Politics, AKA Fantasy Racism, Bigotry & Prejudice, F/F, Gen, Harry Potter AU, More tags to be added, Potterstuck, Rose Is Draco Malfoy, Slow Burn, Snape And Bro Are Terrible Little Men, Vriska Is Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitstuck/pseuds/shitstuck
Summary: Rose Lalonde always knew she would go to Hogwarts. She was excited, really, but it wasn’t a shocking revelation for her. Whatwasshocking was the rumor that Rose’s first year at Hogwarts would also be the first year of Vriska Serket — the infamous infant witch who may have killed the Dark Lord with her Dark powers. Or maybe she was just an unlucky orphan who simplyhappenedto be the first-ever survivor of the Killing Curse.Either way, Rose has a vested interest in Vriska and her character — if not for her, Rose might still have a whole family instead of a nearly-empty mansion and a twin brother who lives across the country. But Vriska is not all she seems, and neither are their professors...





	1. letters

When you get your letter, there is no surprise in your destitute house. There isn’t much of anything, really; your mother leaves it on the dining room table, open but still in the envelope. You’ve just picked it up and read the address (Ms. R Lalonde, the second bedroom on the first floor, Lalonde Manor, Wiltshire) when Roxy runs in, squealing.

“Rosie, congratulations! Ooh, I’m so proud! Oh, I hope you get Ravenclaw like me!”

Roxy is a constant chatterer. You truly have no idea where she gets it from, since both of your parents are near-silent figures in your lives. She’s not even the only one with this quality -- she shares it with your twin brother, who truly cannot stop talking no matter how inconvenient it is. Dave is more of a nervous talker, though, usually trying and failing to cover some emotion, whereas Roxy simply says most of the thoughts in her head.

She chatters on while you empty the envelope and skim over the contents. Just as you saw when Roxy’s letter arrived, there’s a brief note accepting you to the school and a list of things you’ll need. Most of them you either have already or could easily use Roxy’s old ones, but you know Mother will be taking you to Diagon Alley to buy everything brand new. Just another passive-aggressive, money-fueled grab for your daughterly affections. Perhaps you’ll take Roxy’s old robes anyway -- except, no, she’s always been tall and skinny and you are quite the opposite. Maybe her books or something. You can figure it out later.

“Serenity,” Roxy calls, “will you make us up a dinner? Something special, to celebrate Rosie’s letter!”

Serenity, your diminutive house-elf, appears with a quiet _pop!_ and immediately bows. “Yes, mistress Roxy, right away!”

“Thank you, dear!” Roxy turns her attention back to you. “Rose, you should owl Dave and see if he’s gotten his!”

“I’m sure he has,” you say. “There’s no need to risk an owl when we’re so certain.”

You are not to owl Dave but for holidays and special circumstances. _Extremely_ special circumstances.

“Well, come on, it’s a special occasion, why shouldn’t you?”

“I am not to owl Dave but for holidays and extremely special circumstances. I wouldn’t count such a completely unsurprising event as this.”

“It’s _exciting_ , Rosie! Aren’t you happy?”

You consider this. “Yes, but I wouldn’t consider it an unusual enough event to owl Dave about it.”

“Rose, you know Da -- Br -- ugh, you know our _father_ won’t let him owl you, so you should owl him first!”

Hmph. She has a point.

“And anyway, don’t just not owl him to be contrary to me.”

“Fine,” you say. “You’re right, anyway.” Much as you hate to admit it.

***

Dearest darlingest brother David,

How have you been faring since my last owl? I do apologize for the length of time between my letters, but I know how your “Bro” can be.

Today I received a most thrilling missive by owl. Shall I quote the opening line for you? Or perhaps I will simply tell you the sender. It’s quite a famous institution -- no doubt you’ve heard of it. Just a little place called, oh, _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

I don’t know about you, but I am positively delighted to finally be attending Hogwarts. You’ve gotten your letter too, right? I know you, Dirk, and “Bro” are well-hidden, but everyone says Dumbledore knows everything, even where to find students that shouldn’t be found. Besides, Dirk goes to Hogwarts, and he got his letter after you went into hiding.

Let me know in your next owl if there’ll be any school supplies you lack, yes? My mother will take me out shopping regardless of the fact that we already have everything on the list, so I’ll be able to bring spares of anything if you need me to.

Your dearest darlingest sister,  
Rose

***

rose

you fucking nerd i swear to god your letters get progressively worse every time you send them this one took me half an hour and dirk to parse

ive been fine like i said last time and bros as cool as hes ever been were just around here being awesome as always

i did get my letter obviously and of course im going to hogwarts bro kinda wishes i wasnt but he cant stop me and lord knows dumbledored find a way to get me there anyway

dirk says hes gonna take me shopping but we only have so much money so i guess im gonna need a cauldron and a telescope if thats okay the wands probably gonna be the next most expensive thing but its not like you can get that for me so its okay

anyway i love you and all that gay shit  
dave

***

Your mother, rather than taking you out shopping for your school things, simply buys them all for you. You wake up a week before school starts to find a pile of books and such stacked on the dining room table, including a new cauldron and several new sets of robes. You know they won’t fit. There’s also a pouch of Galleons with a note tied to it that reads For anytihng else you might need :) and is signed by your mother.

The pile lacks a wand, and you think you’d like a few other trinkets, so you ask Roxy to take you to Diagon Alley when she goes to refresh her own school supplies. She cheerfully agrees, of course, so you bring the pouch of Galleons and a bit of your own pocket money, just to be safe. You’ll have to get a wand, after all, and new robes since your mother can’t guess your size for the life of her, and whenever you go to Diagon Alley you like to have a little extra change in case you see something tempting.

The wand is first, of course. Roxy takes you to Ollivander’s, a weathered-looking shop run by an old man with shockingly white hair and light eyes.

“Rose Lalonde,” he says when you introduce yourself. “I remember your parents’ wands well. Acacia and unicorn for your mother, ten and a half inches, and only moderately flexible. Certainly unusual, and quite powerful. Your father had cherry and dragon heartstring, a dangerous combination, thirteen inches and quite rigid. And your sister here, of course -- dogwood, quite uncommon, and unicorn hair, twelve and a half inches and fairly whippy.”

“He’s just like that,” Roxy whispers to you. Ollivander chuckles slightly.

“Well, let’s begin, shall we? I’ll just need to take a few measurements first -- which is your wand arm?”

“Right,” you say. With a flick of his wand, a tape measure unfurls and begins measuring your height and the length of your arm, and then more abstract distances, like the circumference of your ankle and the length of your nose.

“Let’s try this one,” he says, and passes you a wand. You’ve hardly taken it in your hand when he snatches it back out.

“No, no, that won’t do. This one.” He exchanges it for another wand, which he also immediately seems to change his mind about. This goes on for some time, and you must be in there for ten whole minutes just standing there grabbing a wand and having to let go just as quickly.

“Aha!” he says suddenly. “Quite uncommon these days, but I think it might do just right for you.”

You take the wand, and he doesn’t snatch it from your hand this time, just watches intently. It feels comfortable in your hand, and it’s quite a light color. You give it an experimental flick, and a violet ribbon of light streams out the end and swirls in the air like smoke.

“Perfect! Silver lime and dragon heartstring, ten inches, and sturdy. Do you know anything about wandmaking, Ms. Lalonde?”

“No, why?”

“Silver lime is a wood strongly associated with clairvoyance -- Seers and skilled Legilimens. It was in high fashion perhaps half a century ago, but has mostly faded into obscurity. Dragon heartstring, meanwhile, is a powerful core and a quick learner, though it can be temperamental. A most interesting combination to choose you, Ms. Lalonde. I look forward to seeing your impact on the wizarding world.”

You are _enchanted_. Silver lime -- a rare, old-fashioned wood, and it chose you! You’re practically in a daze as you hand Mr. Ollivander eight Galleons and walk out, still staring at your beautiful, pale wand.

“Ooh, it’s so exciting, Rosie! Where do you wanna go next, Twilfitt and Tattings? Or, you know what, why don’t we go to Madam Malkin’s instead, and then Fortescue’s is right there.”

You nod, still dazed. Roxy chatters on, and you hold on to the hem of her shirt as she leads you through the dull roar of the crowd.

Madam Malkin herself is a portly old woman with ruddy cheeks, not much taller than you. She hands you a set of robes to start out with and begins tacking up the sleeves.

The door on the bell jingles and a tall, skinny girl with an absolute mess of wild black hair walks in alone. Madam Malkin turns away from you for a moment.

“Hogwarts, dear?”

The girl nods mutely.

“Alright, come stand up here so we can get you fitted.” She bustles off to get something and you and the girl are left alone.

“You’re a first-year too, right?” you ask politely. It would be good to start the year knowing someone besides Dave, after all.

“Yeah,” she says in a scratchy voice. She won’t meet your eyes, and her hair covers almost half of her face.

“Well… alright. What’s your name?”

“You can just call me Vee.”

“Hello, Vee, I’m Rose Lalonde. Aren’t you excited? Have you got your wand yet?”

At this she breaks into a smile. “Yeah! Vine and phoenix feather, thirteen inches, and, uh… I think he said ‘surprisingly hardy’?”

“ _Vine?_ I didn’t know you could even make wands out of vines!”

“He said it was _super_ rare, and it went off as soon as I walked into the store!”

You gape at her. “That’s incredible.”

Madam Malkin returns, but you go on with your conversation as Vee asks, “What’s your wand?”

“Silver lime and dragon heartstring, ten inches, and sturdy. Silver lime is apparently associated with Seers, so maybe I’ll be able to see the future or something.”

“Whoa.”

“What House are you hoping for? My sister wants me to be in Ravenclaw, but I think I’ll probably end up in Slytherin like my oldest brother.”

“Uhh…”

Just then, Madam Malkin stands up and tells you you’re done, and you have to pay her and meet Roxy outside before you can say goodbye to Vee.

Roxy has two ice cream cones in her hands, and you trade her for the bag with your new robes in it.

“How was your fitting?”

“Oh, fine. I met another first-year.”

“Oh, cool! Was it that other girl with the messy hair?”

“Yeah, she said her name was Vee and her wand is made of vines!”

“No way!”

“Yeah!”

“That reminds me, unrelated to this other girl.” Roxy lowers her voice slightly. “I was chatting with Florean and he said that _Vriska Serket_ is starting school this year too.”

“Really? But I thought she pretty much disappeared after… the incident with the Dark Lord? All we know is that her parents died but she survived.”

“I know! But Florean said that the owner of Gambol and Japes told him that he heard Ollivander talking to her and saying her name. He said that something blew up in Ollivander’s shop as soon as she walked in!”

“She must be _powerful_. Maybe she really did defeat the Dark Lord.” It’s a heavy thought. It would mean that you’ll be going to school with one of the most powerful Dark witches ever.

You _have_ to get close to her.

“Hey, I have an idea for a special treat. Let’s go to The Magical Menagerie and get you a cat! Or an owl, if you’d rather. But since I’ll be taking Mutie, and since you don’t have… you know, maybe you could get a kitten or something.”

You ponder this for a moment. Roxy’s “you know” refers to your cat Jaspers, who went missing when you were seven and whose dead body reappeared almost two years later. Unfortunately, it became a whole _thing_ with your mother, and she held you a funeral for him, had his body magically preserved, and built a mausoleum to house his tiny coffin. You simply couldn’t be allowed to mourn your dear feline friend in peace — she just _had_ to turn poor Jaspers into a pawn in your passive-aggressive war.

You know she didn’t actually kill him or anything, but it’s still something of a sensitive topic with you.

“I think I’d like that,” you say.

Roxy takes you to The Magical Menagerie, which is just down the alley and across from Gringotts. Inside, there aren’t many owls, since Eeylop’s Owl Emporium isn’t far down the block, but rats scurry through tunnels, cats meander about the shelves, and a single black raven rests on a perch near the door.

“Welcome to The Magical Menagerie!” says the witch at the counter cheerfully. “Feel free to browse all you like, and if you have any questions just let me know.”

“Is there, like, a section for cats?” Roxy asks.

“Sure, there’s a couple around the front here but most of them will be back and to your left.”

“Thanks!”

You go to the little alcove of cat cages and sit on the floor, waiting. Already, one of the more sociable cats is approaching you -- a beautiful fluffy Persian nudges your shoulder -- but as much as you love all cats, you’d prefer one with less fur if possible. Roxy sits next to you, taking the Persian in her lap.

“Seen any you like so far?” she asks.

“He’s very friendly,” you say, referring to the cat in her lap, “but he’s so fluffy and our robes are black.”

“Good point. What’s your game plan, then?”

“Sit and wait for a bit, and see if any particular cats strike my fancy.”

“Okay. Do you wanna get a little thing of treats?”

“Not right now.”

Currently, you have your eye on a little black shorthair watching you from his cage. He sits extremely still, only blinking his ice-blue eyes every now and then. He makes direct eye contact with you.

“I like that one,” you say, gesturing towards him.

Just as you say this, a white and orange blur lands on your shoulder, knocking you over.

“Turkey, no!” cries the cashier.

“This cat’s name is Turkey?” you say incredulously, as the cat prances around your torso and settles along your sternum. A sandpaper tongue tickles your neck.

“Did you hit your head? Oh, I’m so sorry, he’s been here for ages but he keeps pouncing on the guests and the other pets!”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you say. “Um. How much is the adoption fee for… Turkey?”

The cashier seems shocked that you want this cat who bowled you over and is still, in fact, resting on your shoulders and licking at your neck, but Roxy insists on buying him for you as well as getting you all kinds of supplies for him. You pick out a collar, and Roxy gets a new one for Mutie as well.

Turkey falls off your shoulders as soon as you walk out of the shop, but you pick him up and set him back up. He’s quite large, and he makes a mess of your hair and blocks some of your vision, but you find that you like his weight.

“Alright, I think that’s got you covered! I gotta stop at Flourish and Blotts real quick and then we can head back home.”

You nod, and Turkey falls off your shoulders again.

***

The next three weeks before school are unbearably boring. You organize your supplies over and over again, packing and unpacking your trunk and a little train bag until Roxy makes you come out of your rooms to eat. You don’t owl Dave again, but you can’t wait to see him again. The last time you saw him was… what, three years ago? Four? It was just before he went into hiding with Dirk and their “brother,” and Dirk will be a fourth year now. Three years, then. You miss him so much.

Turkey is a constant presence in your rooms, often falling into the sink or toilet in your ensuite bathroom. You have to bathe him constantly as a result, but unlike any other cats you know, he doesn’t seem to mind much. He likes the water quite a bit, really, and getting him out of the bath is often more difficult than getting him in.

Three days before September first, a massive, raggedy raven arrives at your door and gives you a letter from Dave.

***

rose

we werent even planning to go into magical menagerie when we went shopping but i heard what sounded like screaming and it turned out to be this crazy raven fighting with the shop owner and she immediately flew over and burrowed into my hair so they gave us a discount for her

i love her so much her name is antioch and shes really mean to bro so she cant come inside the house but its okay she hunts her own food

dirk says roxy said you got a cat named turkey but that cant be right youre the type of person to name a cat belgaroth or some shit youd never allow a cat named turkey to live in your house so im calling bullshit on that one

anyway give antioch a pet for me and send her back if you write a letter to go with it she wont come back in time to go to school and i dont want her to get lost

dave

***

You send him a letter anyway -- just a quick note reading See you at school \-- and the raven nips at your hand in what you must assume is an affectionate manner, since it only hurts a little bit and she looks like she could do serious damage if she wanted.

“Antioch is a boy’s name,” you tell her, and send her on her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and that you stick around for chapter 2!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, and I’m always available at my [tumblr](https://shitstuck.tumblr.com) if you have any questions for me or just want to hit me up!


	2. vriska serket

When the day finally arrives, you and Roxy Floo to a transfer point near King’s Cross Station with all your things and cross onto Platform 9¾. She helps you load your things onto the train before running off with a group of her friends, and you wait outside the train for Dave to come through the entrance.

A girl with long dreadlocks and a wide, eager grin pushes through the door with a massive white bear of a dog, and Dave is right behind her. He looks the same as ever, and startlingly like you -- same unnaturally blond hair, same strange patchy skin, and the same unnervingly light eyes. Unlike you, however, he covers his eyes with sunglasses. He has switched from the same stupid frames as his brothers to a pair of aviator-style glasses, which you think suits his face much better.

“Dave!” you call, and run up to him.

“Rose!” he shouts, and hugs you tightly. “This is Jade, she grew up on an island!”

“I didn’t know how the ticket worked,” she says. “Dave helped me! You’re Rose?”

You nod. “I’m Rose Lalonde, lovely to meet you.” You extend your hand. She grabs it and shakes enthusiastically, and her dog pushes his wet nose into your palm.

“Jade Harley! This is my dog, Bec.”

You recognize the name Harley, but it doesn’t sound much like a Wizarding name, so you tuck it into the back of your mind and resolve to find her later.

“Shall we go sit?” you say.

The three of you find a train car together, and you let Turkey out of his cage as long as the door is shut.

“So that’s Belgaroth or Cthulu or whatever, right?” Dave says. “I’d’ve expected a black cat.”

“No, his name is really Turkey. He pounced on me when we first met. And this must be Antioch, yes?” you say, gesturing to the familiar raven perched on his shoulder. “You know Antioch is a boy’s name.”

Dave looks affronted. “Does it matter? It’s her name now. I’m not changing it for you. Besides, it sounds cool.”

Bec, meanwhile, lies placidly on the floor. Jade removes her sandals and rests her feet on him.

“May I?” you ask, since you’re sitting across from her.

“Sure! Just take off your shoes first.”

Bec makes for a very comfortable footrest.

“How is it that you’re bringing Bec to school with you? I thought students were only allowed a cat, an owl, or a toad?”

“No, you’re right, but Dumbledore told me he’d make an exception for me since Bec might not do so hot if he was really alone on my island. Besides, I’d miss him, and I’ve had him as long as I can remember. And anyway, Dave has a raven, so why shouldn’t I have my dog?”

“Fair enough,” you allow. “Do you mean to say that you live alone on an island with only your dog?”

She nods. “I used to live there with my grandpa too, but he died a few years ago. Since then it’s just me and Bec! It was actually kinda scary, but Bec takes good care of me.”

Jade goes on to tell you that Bec’s full name is Becquerel, after a Muggle science concept, and that she doesn’t actually know anything about her family besides the fact that her grandfather was a wizard as well. It’s odd to you, since your family history is the beginning and end of every interaction you’ve ever had.

You’re just telling her this when the door slams open and a short boy with warm brown skin and piercing gray eyes enters your compartment.

“Finally, jesus. This is the only compartment that isn’t completely full.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence as he sits down next to Jade.

“Well, my name is Rose Lalonde,” you say.

“Karkat Vantas. Yes, it’s an Indian name. Yes, I’m Indian. Yes, I’m ‘really British enough’ to go here.” His tone is weighted with anger and exasperation, and doesn’t exactly invite follow-up questions or conversation.

“Jade Harley!” Jade bursts out unexpectedly. “And this is my dog, Bec. It’s nice to meet you, Karkat.”

He seems moderately surprised at her intense friendliness, but he shakes her extended hand anyway.

“And I’m Dave Strider. Sup.” When he speaks, Dave lounges on the wall and gives a subtle nod in Karkat’s direction.

“Holy shit, you have the fakest, most asshole-sounding name I’ve ever heard.”

You snort, because it is a fake name, and an asshole did come up with it.

“At your service,” Dave says, with a twitch of his cheek that’s probably a wink under his shades.

“What’s with the sunglasses, anyway? We’re inside. It’s not even sunny, it’s as cloudy as it always is in this fucking country.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Dave replies, “but I will tell you that the secret reason is cool as fuck and you should be dying to know.”

“My, my, Dave,” you begin with a sly smile, “you’re posturing even more than you usually do in front of me. Is it possible you have a vested interest in Karkat’s opinion of you?”

You watch as the light skin around his nose turns from pale pink to deep rhubarb. His reply is slightly shaky but still calm. “Nah, I’m just being my usual cool-ass self.”

“Sure, dear — friend, sure.” You’re so used to calling Dave your brother in private; it’s strange to have to pretend you aren’t related.

“So if you don’t mind my asking, what do your parents do? Are they a witch and a wizard?”

Karkat seems defensive at first, but relaxes when he realizes you’re not asking about his race. “I’m from India, I grew up there and everything. My mother died long enough ago that I don’t remember her, but my father is a… politician, I guess. It’s hard to explain. He came to Britain not long after she died. He and my mom were both Muggles.”

“Oh, interesting. How’d you find out?”

“Well, it started with accidental magic, of course, and then this summer a witch from the school came and helped us out. She explained all the magic stuff and helped us get to Diagon Alley, and told us how to get on the platform at the train station.”

“I’ve always wondered how Muggle-borns get to Hogwarts. It’s interesting to find out. How much do they tell you about the school and all that then?”

“She told me a bit about the Houses, and who Dumbledore is, and a bit about, like, the war, and why some people might not like that I’m Muggle-born.”

“That makes sense, that’s a good thing to know before you arrive. Did you hear anything about Vriska Serket?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Not what, _who_. Vriska Serket is the person who defeated the Dark Lord.”

Jade gives you a funny look. “I thought only Death Eaters called You-Know-Who that.”

You meet her eyes and give a half smile. “I did tell you my surname is Lalonde, didn’t I?”

Jade gasps.

“But I don’t take after my parents. I have, however, picked up some of their patterns of speech.”

“Plus,” Dave interjects, “can I just say it’s way cooler to call him the Dark Lord than You-Know-Who. It’s just funner to say.”

“More fun, David.”

“Rosie.”

“Impasse?”

“Deal. So you don’t know anything about Vriska Serket?”

“No.”

You take over for Dave again. “You know the war ended almost exactly ten years ago, right?”

Karkat nods.

“Well, on Halloween that year, the Dark Lord went after the Serket family. He came to their house, slaughtered Vriska’s parents, and came for Vriska as well. But for some reason, instead of killing her, the Dark Lord simply vanished.”

“Why?”

“Nobody knows. His body was never found, but he hasn’t been seen once in the ten years since that night. Vriska, meanwhile, survived the Killing Curse the Dark Lord hit her with, and will be attending Hogwarts as a first-year student this year.”

“She survived a curse called the Killing Curse?” Karkat says, raising his eyebrows in suspicion.

“She’s the only known person to survive it, in all of Wizarding history. Some say she got lucky, and that whatever took her eye happened after Voldemort died or disappeared on his own. Others say she was born a powerful Dark wizard, destined to take the Dark Lord’s place as the tyrant of the Wizarding world. But most of us just accept that something beyond explanation happened that day, and that we can only hope that the Dark Lord truly is gone forever.”

Your compartment is silent but for Bec’s wheezy breaths. He and Turkey are getting along quite well, actually, though the latter is currently resting in your lap.

Someone knocks on the door just then, and though when Dave opens it you fully expect to have to tell someone to butt out, it turns out to be a portly witch pushing a trolley full of snacks.

Karkat buys nothing. Jade buys a few bags of crisps and some Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. She immediately passes one of the crisp bags to Karkat, who starts yelling at her about how he “doesn’t need her charity,” and some such drivel. It’s funny, he’s putting on more of an act than Dave does, but he’s doing it in almost the opposite way.

You get some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Jelly Slugs, and most importantly, a stock of Licorice Wands. Dave, however, buys half the cart.

“I thought you were low on money,” you say casually.

“Well, I am, but Dirk gave me some to spend, and, like, where else am I gonna spend it? You have a Prophet subscription, so I don’t need that, and we can’t go to Hogsmeade yet either, so I may as well spend it now.”

“Fine, I suppose. But when Antioch is jealous of Turkey’s mail-order treats, don’t beg me for spare Knuts.”

“I won’t. I’ll beg Dirk, and he’ll give them to me.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He would if he had any, but you suspect that Dirk already gave most of his money to Dave, even though Dirk actually can go to Hogsmeade.

“Who’s Dirk?” Jade asks.

“My brother,” Dave says. “He’s a fourth year. Slytherin.”

“You have an older brother who goes to Hogwarts? Oh, you must know how everything goes!” Jade says.

“Eh, so-so. He’s not a super talkative guy, though he’s better than my oldest brother. Dude never speaks, it’s weird. But Dirk’s okay. He talks to — to Rose’s older sister a lot more, though.”

“Are they dating?”

“Oh, god, no, my brother’s gayer than Freddie Mercury. They’re best friends, though.”

“Who’s Freddie Mercury?”

Karkat butts in. “Only the lead singer of Queen, obviously! How could you not know who Freddie Mercury is?”

“Oh, he must be a Muggle singer.”

“Wizards don’t even listen to normal music? Jesus christ, what the fuck am I getting into.”

You chuckle slightly. It’s interesting to get to know a Muggle-born. Roxy was the one to teach you your family history, since your mother is essentially absent, and she’d been adamant that the anti-Muggle ideals your parents hold are baseless and unreasonable.

“Oh, how deep the rabbit-hole goes, Karkat,” you say.

The rest of the train ride is quite pleasant. Jade and Dave have a tendency to bicker with Karkat, but it seems to be mostly friendly. Karkat seems to be generally aggressive no matter who he’s talking to, so you suspect it’s just part of his charm. Dave tells you a bit more about Dirk and a bit less about your father, but by reading between the lines you can guess that his situation is about the same as it ever was — shitty.

You learn that though Karkat knows little about the House system, he would prefer to be in Gryffindor. Jade has no idea which House she belongs in, and intends to trust whatever the Sorting Ceremony tells her. Dave, much like Karkat, wants to be in Gryffindor, but you privately disagree. Gryffindor boys tend to be tough jocks, according to Dirk, and though Dave is not weak or inept, he has a gentleness to him that you don’t think suits Gryffindor. Where he should go instead, you aren’t sure, though. Perhaps Ravenclaw like Roxy.

You tell them about Roxy, and how most of your family before her was in Slytherin. It really cemented her role as a sort of black sheep in your family, though she’s never seen it as a bad thing.

“Wow,” Dave says after Jade finishes a story about her grandfather teaching her to use Muggle weapons. “It’s really getting dark out.”

“Mm, we’d better get our robes on.” The sun is resting heavy on the horizon, and when you lean closer to the window, you see the castle in the distance.

***

You see “Vee” from Madam Malkin’s again, but her hair is combed and pulled back and you see the distinctive cursed eye that makes her true identity clear.

“Vriska Serket,” you say. “Or do you genuinely prefer Vee? I did wonder why your hair covered your face so thoroughly when we met.”

She nods, a hard set to her brow. “Vee to my friends.”

“Well, I’d love to be included in that group, if you’re amenable. The Lalonde name is a powerful one, and I’m willing to share.”

“I couldn’t care less about your _name_ ,” she sneers. “I can’t believe you _want_ to be in Slytherin, with their reputation. You know they’re all evil, right?”

“Interesting that you make that generalization, but Houses are based on personality and values, not whether a person is ‘evil’ or not.”

“Whatever. I want nothing to do with you or your ‘help.’” She sniffs and turns away, and you are left with the vivid image of her cursed eye under its arched brow.

So she’s pitting herself against you, your House, and your family. Fine.

A tall witch in emerald-green robes addresses the crowd and explains that you must line up in alphabetical order to be Sorted. You end up relatively far away from everyone you really know, but Jade is near-ish enough to see.

Several people down from you stands a statuesque girl with a scarf covering her hair. You can’t stop yourself from staring at the hook of her nose and the fullness of her lips.

You recognize a few people here and there just from your family. Just two people away, next to the beautiful girl, is Gamzee Makara, a fellow child of “former” Death Eaters. Unlike you, however, he is clearly much more in tune with his roots, and from what you know of him, happy to follow in his parents’ footprints — even though they lead straight to Azkaban.

“Ampora, Eridan,” is called (and immediately goes to Slytherin), and you recognize the name but not the colorful-haired boy who steps up to the front of the Hall and puts on the Sorting Hat. His parents were as high up as yours in the ranks of Death Eaters, but have avoided prosecution in the same way as your mother — money and prestige.

The next Slytherin is named Sollux Captor, a boy with cropped brown hair and multicolored glasses. He groans when the hat comes off, for reasons unclear.

The next name you actually recognize is that of John Egbert. He’s considered something of a blood-traitor by many, but you think that has much more to do with his family’s financial status rather than their actual stance on Muggle-borns. His father _is_ a Muggle liaison in the Ministry of Magic, however, so you suppose that if one’s definition of “blood-traitor” is “Muggle-lover,” the claims aren’t unfounded. He’s Sorted into Gryffindor, which isn’t surprising.

When Jade is called, she bounds excitedly to the front and is quickly Sorted into Ravenclaw. She waves to you and quickly recognizes your sister, and they seem to get along like a house on fire.

You are called shortly after Jade, and sit on the same stool as everyone else. Roxy hasn’t told you _everything_ about the Sorting Ceremony, but you know what to expect based on the students before you.

“Another Lalonde,” says a tiny voice from the cavern of the hat. “But you’re not much like your sister, are you? No, you’re much more like your brother… cunning, whip-smart, and tempted by power. I think you’ll fit best where he is now… in SLYTHERIN!”

Professor McGonagall (the witch from the entry hall) removes the hat and you walk to the Slytherin table happily. Rather than sit near the other first-years, you sit next to Dirk and his friend.

“So, Dirk, care to introduce me?” you ask politely.

“Meenah,” he says with a jerk of his thumb at the girl seated across the table. She has close-cropped natural hair and two thick braids down her back, and two gold hoops in her eyebrow.

“Peixes,” she says, answering your unasked question. Her family weren’t Death Eaters, but they’re purebloods, and were certainly supporters during the war. You don’t know where she fits into that. Hell, you hardly know how Dirk fits into that.

The Sorting continues. Makara is Sorted into Hufflepuff, which surprises you. You learn that the pretty girl with the scarf is named Kanaya Maryam, but are disappointed when she is Sorted into Ravenclaw. You won’t be able to share as many classes with her. Meenah’s sister becomes a Gryffindor, and the next Slytherin is the girl immediately after her, whose name is Terezi Pyrope.

Pyrope is a familiar name to you, but not from your family’s side of the war. The woman who must be Terezi’s mother was a famous light against the Dark Lord’s rule, who stood strongly for equality and was a crucial figure in judging the Death Eaters after the Dark Lord’s fall.

Terezi herself doesn’t seem to know anyone else in Slytherin, and she seems to want to avoid the other group of first-years (who are entirely boys), so she sits in the empty seat beside you. She wears pointed red glasses with lenses thick from prescription.

“I’m sure you know my name, since you just heard it,” she begins. “You’re Rose Lalonde, aren’t you.”

She doesn’t pull punches or hesitate. Impressive. “Yes. As much as I am a Lalonde in name, however, I am not my father’s daughter in the metaphorical sense. I have not inherited the prejudices my parents stood for.”

“Well. That remains to be seen.”

“Fair enough.”

“Who’s this?” she asks, nodding towards Dirk.

You hesitate. “Family friend. His name is Dirk Strider. He’s a fourth-year.”

Terezi seems about to respond, but you are interrupted by the loud, clear call of “Serket, Vriska,” and the silence that follows it.

“I met her,” you whisper as she sits on the stool and puts on the Sorting Hat. “In Madam Malkin’s. Her wand went off as soon as she entered the shop.”

Terezi gapes as the Hat shouts “GRYFFINDOR!”

“Hm. I was hoping she would be a Slytherin as well.”

Dave is next, and he is practically trembling as McGonagall puts the Hat on his head. You and Dirk hold your breath with anticipation.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the Hat shouts.

“Hufflepuff?” Dirk says, shocked. “What the fuck, I thought Gryffindor or Ravenclaw for sure!”

“It makes a certain sort of sense,” you say. “And Hufflepuff will be good for him.”

“Not when we come home for the winter. Bro’s gonna fucking kill him. He was already going to be mad, cause lord knows that kid wouldn’t last a second in Slytherin, but Hufflepuff? Really?”

You forgot about your father for a moment.

“I’m going to go talk to him -- congratulate him, maybe.” You stand up and walk over to the Hufflepuff table, where Dave has just taken a seat alone. Fair enough, because so far the only Hufflepuffs you recognize are Makara, who is alarmingly calm, and one of the Egbert family whose name you don’t know, but who’s certainly not a first-year.

“Hufflepuff,” he says in mild surprise.

You take a seat next to him. “I’m surprised too, but it doesn’t seem incorrect, does it? Loyalty, tenacity, and fairness are all qualities you possess and value.”

“I guess. It’s just -- fucking Hufflepuff, you know?”

“Yes. Fucking Hufflepuff.”

“Anyway. Making any friends in Slytherin yet besides my brother?”

“Your brother has a nice friend, but thankfully the Pyrope girl seems to be amenable to friendship as well. I don’t think I could manage if all my friends in my House were fourth-years. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed that Vriska Serket wasn’t in Slytherin.”

“I knew it was her you were talking to in the entrance hall. She fuckin’ hates you, Rose, I think that door has closed.”

“I don’t see what’s to hate,” you say shortly. “I’ve been perfectly cordial and even offered to share my social status. I quickly learned she wasn’t appreciative of that sort of gesture, but even so, it was a gesture nonetheless. And she seemed to like me well enough the first time we met.”

“Where did you meet her before?”

“Madam Malkin’s. Her hair covered most of her face, but we had a perfectly friendly conversation.”

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Dave interrupts. “Look, it’s Karkat’s turn.”

Indeed, “Vantas, Karkat,” had just been called. He sat on the stool with an expression like he was furiously sucking a lemon, and just as the Hat shouted “HUFFLEPUFF!” he groaned and kicked the stool, knocking it over.

“Well, there you go,” you say, “you won’t be alone in Hufflepuff after all.”

Karkat stomps to the table and sits on Dave’s other side, apparently steaming mad.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Slytherin.”

“I came over to speak with a dear friend about his Sorting. Or am I no longer allowed to be friends with Dave?”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Isn’t Hufflepuff the weird House anyway? Why the fuck am I here?”

“That’s a reputation based on stereotypes,” you say coolly. “Hufflepuffs value loyalty, tenacity, honesty, and fairness. Or were you not listening during the Sorting Hat’s song?”

“So what if I wasn’t? Even if I’m not in Hufflepuff cause I’m a freak or whatever, either way I’ll have that reputation now, won’t I? This school is so fucking stupid.”

“Well, you can either stay and learn magic or go home and never learn magic, so that’s your prerogative. Either way, we are nearing the end of the alphabet so I’d better rejoin my House and prepare for dinner.” With that, you pat Dave on the shoulder and reclaim your seat between Dirk and Terezi, the latter of whom seems to have been messing with the former relentlessly since you left.

“Your’re bad at making friends,” Dirk tells you.

“What, like you’re any better?” Meenah immediately says from across the table. “You know I’m the only friend you have with any sort of influence. The rest of his friends are in other Houses,” she says to you suddenly. “I think one of ‘em’s your sister, actually. She don’t look much like you, but you’re both Lalondes.”

“Yes, Roxy is my sister,” you say.

“Jeez, you all care a whole lot about names, don’t you,” says Terezi.

“It ain’t so much the name itself. It’s about the history of the name, and what the other people with that name have done, and how much power they got. You, for instance. There’s only one famous Pyrope anyone cares about, and it ain’t exactly a name most of us have been glad to hear. Your mom or whatever has put a lotta Death Eaters in jail, and there’s a lot of kids here whose parents are dead or in Azkaban cause of her.”

“So what’s that supposed to say about my name?”

“It says you’re marked for trouble, kid. They say the hat don’t make mistakes, but I ain’t so sure, especially putting you in a House full of people who already hate your guts.”

On that ominous note, the Headmaster gives a brief speech and the tables fill with a luxurious feast. It’s not so different from what Serenity makes at home, so you eat as you normally would, but Dirk eats like a starving man.

You knew neither of them was getting enough to eat at home. You think you’ll convince Dave to stay at school for winter break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am serious fic author who picks serious chapter titles. Also yes, I know, neither Karkat nor Vantas are Indian names, and if I wasn’t using the characters’ actual names I’d’ve _given_ him an Indian name, but I am using the actual characters’ names so I did this.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated, and I’m always available at my [tumblr](https://shitstuck.tumblr.com) if you have any questions!


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